Sympathy stopped in her tracks, her advance on the man in the towel halted. "It is the year of our Father, seventeen hundred and fifty two."
That was obvious, was it not? Even the most uneducated man knew the year. It was impossible to escape knowing.
"What happened here? I will tell you what happened here, Dean." Her eyes narrowed and darkened. "Some hijo de las gran mil putas kidnapped me and brought me to this place, and when I find the mamon, he will feel the bite of my blade."
She looked at Dean again. "And if I find out that you were part of it, I will not hesitate to put lead through your eye. I trust you now, stranger, but I am watching."
Sympathy's demeanor changed again, back to what it had been. "That said, perhaps we have time to work out some aggressions, no? There is heat here, perhaps just the amount to spark pasiĆ³n intense enough to ease anxieties and quell fears."